Past Life Regression
by Panther Nesmith
Summary: AU. Another downer from me. Has a band, eighties music, and the end is the reason for the rating. Note the 'R' No kids please.


I think I'm going through a bad patfch. I feel fine, but eveything I write is. . . you'll see.  
  
***  
  
Rogue sat up in bed, after trying to hurl her clock into the corner of her room farthest away from her. She looked at the cord, trailing behind the now broken timepiece and frowned. She laid back down, satisfied that at least she would get some more sleep.  
  
This didn't last long, because next she was woken up by the sound of a key in the lock of her appartment. She sighed and rolled out of bed. Of course he would come home when she was about to get much needed extra sleep.  
  
Rogue went out the short hall in front of the apartment door, pushing her white and blue hair out of her eyes. Standing in front of her was a tall man wearing jeans and the world's grungiest t-shirt. It hadn't looked half as bad when he'd left. Not to mention there were about twenty new rips in his jeans. Behind the man was tall woman, with light brown eyes, and her hair in an obviously dyed purple mohawk, and wearing leather pants and a black vest and huge boots. Rogue could appreciate the look.  
  
"It takes you two weeks to find our girl, and you come back the second Ah might get some sleep." Rogue said to the man, before turning to the woman, who seemed to be a little nervous about the hall. "Sorry, Ah'm not exactly dressed. Someone," Rogue glared at the man for a second, before addressing the other woman again, "Shoulda called first. Ah hate meetin' people in mah pajamas. C'mon in."  
  
"So it's all my fault huh? Fine. I'm sorry. Took me longer dan I thought it would. Like you t' meet Ororo Munroe, our new singer, mebe. 'Ro, dis is our lead guitarist, and one of our voclaists, Rogue." Ororo shook the other woman's hand. The man got a mischevious glint in his grey eyes and said to Ororo in a stage whisper, "Doan ask about de name."  
  
Rogue shook her head, and led the two tired travelers into the living room. It was crappily decorated. A broken couch, an old armchair, and a tv with a bent antenna, left on the previous night, showing the video for 'Can't Touch This.' Ororo sat on the couch, the man sprawled over the armchair, and Rogue stayed standing.  
  
"When's Jean gonna get here? Ah swear she's late half the time."  
  
Ororo strained her eyes to see back into the miniscule hallway, after she thought she'd seen motion. Rogue noticed this, and turned around to follow the newcomer's gaze.  
  
"Kurt! 'Bout time you got up! Get in her and meet the girl Remy went to pick up."  
  
A man about Rogue's height, with green eyes almost the same color as Rogue's, light brown hair, and a slight tan waked in, wearing pajama bottoms, a t-shirt, and a bleary facial expression.  
  
"Not now. I need coffee." Ororo watched the other man shuffle toward an adjacent room, that contained a refrigerator, and a table with two mismatched vinyl chairs pulled up around it. She watched Kurt get out coffee filters, flicking the old one into the garbage. It was odd for her, like she had become part of their lives so quickly, that two minutes after she arrived, She was already blending into the couch. Rogue's voice broke the slightly downhearted woman out of this trance.  
  
"Tell me 'bout what took ya, an' don't leave anything out. Jean's been gone with that jerk Scott, so it's been just me an' Kurt for two weeks. We're ready to kill each othah."  
  
Remy started talking about why it had taken him so long to get back with Ororo. Rogue listened intently, and Kurt tossed commentary out from the kitchen. Ororo added parts when Remy forgot them.  
  
In a nutshell their story was computer problems at the airport landed them in Salt Lake City, and not New York, so they'd had to catch the cheapest flight, which meant taking twelve different planes from different cities. Remy reached into his pocket and pulled out an audio tape.  
  
"But, in de airports I had 'Ro listen to the back up tape, an' sang de songs for her, so she knows most of our stuff." He tossed the tape to Rogue, who got up and put it in a box with very thick walls. Rogue saw Ororo watching.   
  
"Fireproof box. Call us paranoid, but we keep careful track of these tapes. Othah bands might try ta copy our stuff. It's a dog eat dog buisnss we're tryn' ta get in, and everyone's wearin' bacon shorts."  
  
Ororo laughed, and Kurt walked in with a tv tray, a pot holder, the coffee pot, and a big cooking pot with the lid on it.  
  
"Breakfast" Remy explained, before pulling the top off of the pot. Inside was something that almost in no way resembled macaroni and cheese.  
  
"What is dis? I refuse t' b'lieve you ever ate dis." Remy poked the orangy macaroni and cheese-like food with a fork, and Rogue rolled her eyes.  
  
"It's not half bad. Pretty much spaghetti sauce an' macaroni an' cheese. Better than it looks."  
  
Ororo shifted a little in her seat. Kurt looked at her.  
  
"Is it the couch, or do you want something else for breakfast?"  
  
"I ate already, and I'm a vegetarian." Ororo said, once again shifting on the couch. "And I believe I'm sitting on the world's pointiest spring."  
  
The other three occupants laughed, and things went smoother. Kurt went to the refrigerator, and pulled out another pot. This one contained plain macaroni and cheese. Ororo seemed a little leary about just grabbing stuff out of the pot with her fork, and had, after all, eaten. The others seemed to have no problem with eating this way. Rogue was perched on the arm of the chair, in front of Remy's legs, and Kurt pulled a chair out of the kitchen.  
  
It was a few more minutes before a very flustered looking red head ran in, and plopped down on the couch, almost on top of Ororo. Ororo was also the only one to notice her dramatic entrance, as far as she could see. Then Remy finished chewing his fork full of orange noodle stuff, and looked at Jean.  
  
"Heard y' went outta town."  
  
The woman nodded, and gasped for breath a little.  
  
"Went to. . .Florida." the woman said, before leaning forward in her seat, and looking inside a purse that had escaped Ororo's notice. Whatever she was looking for, the red head didn't find it, and closed her purse agian. Rogue was the next one to speak.  
  
"Well, now that we're all here, Ah'd like you two ta meet our newest vocalist, Ororo Munroe. Ororo, the guy's mah brother Kurt, an' the woman desperatly tryin' to catch her breath, because she knew she was half an hour late and ran the rest of the way here is Jean Grey. Now the only person we have to wait for is. . ."  
  
Rogue was interrupted by someone knocking on the apartment door. Quick looks were exchanged between the veteran band members, and soon not only Jean and Remy, but also Ororo were running as quietly as possible across the apartment to the master bed room. Kurt was getting rid of any other evidence of people beside himself and his sister, while Rogue went to answer the door.  
  
Outside the door, was the only person in the world that really bothered Rogue. He was short and pissy. He was also the enforcer of the 'no outside visitors' rule. It was in place for the college kids, but everyone else had to live by it too. He'd actually demanded documented proof that Kurt and Rogue were related. After he had been yelled at over the phone by their step-mother Irene, they were allowed to room with each other, but held very strictly to the no visitor's rule.  
  
"Hey Mr. Logan. Whacha doin' here. We paid the rent. . ."  
  
The man looked insid the apartment, and had he insane urge to start sniffing around like a drug dog. He shook it off, and said, in his most authorative voice, "I'm lookin' for someone. They ran past my room, toward you two a few minutes ago, waking me up, and getting two rooms to call me about intruders. Now who's in here tu-tone?" Rogue sighed.  
  
Ever since she'd started dyeing her hair people had felt the need to comment. At first, when her hair had been all purple, she'd withstood 'Violet you're turning Violet, Violet.' Now that her hair was blue toward the roots and white at the bottom everyone was calling her either tu-tone; which they picked up from Mr. Logan she was sure, or they would call her something to do with ice. She knew this one had been started by the accounting major next door. Not that it mattered. She cold blackmail him with pictures of him doing the Blues Brother's dance if need be.  
  
"It was jus' Kurt. He was visitin' a friend. 'Member hearin' 'bout that girl he met when he tried goin' solo in Germany? It's her. She's stayin' in the Hilton if ya wanna check it out."  
  
The rent-a-parent was about to retort when a medium height woman with brown hair and a very buisness like manner, if not dress, said from behind him, "Are you harrasing my children again? I thought I set you straight."  
  
Mr. Logan gave a half hearted glare, and inwardly wished he could growl. It wasn't exactly a new thing. This was every morning. He grumbled and went down the hall to 'talk' to the exchange student from the UK about his constant screaming matches with God-knows-who.  
  
Kurt popped his head out the door. "Great timing as always Irene." Rogue nodde,d and pushed her brother's head back in the door. Irenen laughed and walked into the soon to be very crowded apartment. Rogue opened the bedroom door, and Ororo was the first one out.  
  
"Ya shoulda told us she was claustrophbic. Irene, Ah'd like ya ta meet Remy's new prospect. Her name's Ororo Munroe. Ororo, is there a shorter form of that?" Rogue asked, and Ororo looked at her. "Remy calls ya 'Ro. . . nevah mind. Ororo, this is Kurt an' my step-mother, and manager of our band, Irene Adler."  
  
After everyone was out of the bedroom, and sort of paying attention Kurt hopped up on the tv tray. "Listen up. Since the new girl's claustrophobic, and because it's such a beautiful day outside, Irene has graciously allowed us to practice outside." He watched as everyone packed up their instruments, and barely jumped off the tv tray before Jean 'accidentally' knocked it over with the kick drum.  
  
"This is your kit; carry it." Kurt scowled at Jean playfully before laughing and carrying his drum kit to the roof, with help from Ororo, who didn't have anything to carry.  
  
On the roof, there was a power strip coming out of a hole in the roof. Everyone got busy plugging things in, and setting things up. The only ones not hooking things up, and griping about the other band members were Irene, and a slightly uncomfortable Ororo. Irene noticed the her newest prospect's uneasiness.  
  
"It's all right. You'll have your place in the riot eventually. For now, thank goodness you're not in there. Have you been practicing?"  
  
Ororo nodded, and told Irene her entire story. By the end of it, the other band members had finished fighting, and hooking stuff up, and a sound check. Jean was the one to interrupt the autobiography.  
  
"Ms. Adler, we need her. Sorry to interrupt story time." Jean joked, while tuning her guitar. She then went back to muttering about how it was always a little too sharp or flat, and how her guitar was only out to annoy her. Not to mention her bangs needed to be cut again, and her hair only grew when it knew she didn't have the money for a hair cut.   
  
Finally practice began. They found that Ororo was well worth the time it had taken to pick her up, and by the end of the practice, they were all very optimistic about the upcoming show. They settled into planning, deciding which songs best suited Ororo's voice, and which she would be playing keyboard for.  
  
Until the roof door burst open and a very angry man wearing sunglasses walked over. Not angrily, but purposefully. He really only looked angry. The others were sure it was the reflective wrap around sunglasses.  
  
"Jean, I thought you were going to stay home today. You were tired from our trip last night." Once again, not angry, but curious. He was obviously not going to yell. Most of the band inwardly sighed in relief and frustration. Jean and Scott had some arguements to remember. Once they had both gotten so angry at each other, Jean had kicked Scott out of their apartment, and wouldn't let him back in for a week.   
  
There were dozens of times one or the other had gotten so hot around the collar they'd stopped speaking or looking at the other. It wasn't too often, but the intensity of the fights made up for the semi-usual lack there of.  
  
Jean looked at Ororo, but only because she was the only one not about to jump on her back about Scott interrupting a band meeting, or even being there in the first place.  
  
"Scott, I was tired last night, but I was joking about staying home. We have a show tomorrow night."  
  
Scott gave her a very perturbed look. Remy muttered something to Rogue, who snickered. Scott looked at the two of them. "You have something you wanna say?"  
  
Rogue put her hand over Remy's mouth and answered for him. "Yeah, band only, bye."  
  
"I have a right to watch out for my girlfriend."  
  
Rogue rolled her eyes. "Gag me with a spoon. Leave before Ah make ya. Jean has a right ta be happy."  
  
Scott gave Rogue a very annoyed look, and turned around. Only instead of going down the stairs to the top floor, he sat on a milk crate that had been there since the band had begun practicing. It was usually Irene's seat. The buisness woman was not happy to have her crate stolen, especially not by some arrogant outsider who couldn't get any from his own girlfriend and wanted the world to pay for it.  
  
Irene grabbed Scott by the collar of his jean jacket, skewing his wrap around sungalsses. "Go on, before we call Mr. Logan on you." Scott gave Irene what probably would have been a good glare if it weren't for the sunglasses and left in huff.   
  
Practice went more smoothly for the whole band after that. They left a few hours later to get food. Rogue gave everyone directions to the bar they would be playing.   
  
Remy was sitting across form her, talking about a restaurant he'd eaten at with Ororo. Rogue was trying to pay attention, but she didn't like to hear about his adventures with another woman, even one that was obviously just his friend. Rogue found herself interrupting despite herself.  
  
"Remy, stop."  
  
He looked at her, trying to decipher her emotions. "What's wrong chere?"  
  
"Ah can't stand ta hear about your doin' stuff with anothah woman, even though Ah know you an' Ororo are friends. Ya just got back aftah bein' gone two weeks. Ah'd like ta forget that. Let's wrap the burgers up an' go back home. Suddenly Ah don't want ta be seen in a McDonalds. Ah think Ah'm scarin' the kids."  
  
"De kids are alright. But, I've got an image t' protect too. Let's go."  
  
Rogue carefully walked down the hallway to her flat. Remy followed, also making as little noise as possible. He was used to sneaking into Rogue's apartment. Not only because he was the bass player in her band either.  
  
Once thay were inside Remy set up the t.v. tray again, and put the food on it. Rogue dug a blanket out of the closet and sat on the couch next to Remy. He pulled her against him, and she smiled wrapping her arms around him. They didn't touch their food again.  
  
The next morning the apartment was flurry of activity. Kurt was running around everywhere, making a genral nuiansce of himself. Remy was checking equipment. Rogue was cutting Jean's hair, while Jean was helping Ororo style hers. They were deliberating about whether spikes, or one solid fan like arangment was better looking.  
  
Finally all the preperation was done, and they all loaded the equipment into Jean's truck and went to their last gig.  
  
The bar was crowded, noisy and smelly. The band was in its element. It was billed as battle of the bands, with the champions, Bad Genes taking all challengers. Bad Genes had been Kurt's brilliant idea, but for the life of them no one could figure it out. They started warming up when the emcee took the microphone.   
  
"Hey people, tonight I have a treat for you. The current champions, Bad Genes, who gained their lead guitarist when the former guitarist of their first challengers, Weasle Feet, started going out with Bad Genes' bass player. This ladies and gentelmen, is a grudge match!"  
  
The crowd responded accordingly while Rogue quickly looked at the board. There in plain letters that she'd had to have been blind not to notice, was Bad Genes and Weasle Feet. She cursed as the rest of the band finished the sound check.  
  
Weasle Feet was also tuning up. The drummer, and odious man named Mort, was playing with his kit, basically wasting time. The rhythm guitarist, and the only woman in the group currently, pushed her black hair out of her blue eyes and tuned her scarlet guitar. The bass player, known for having the largest amp in the cheap abnd genre, was also tuning up, and you could practically feel the vibrations in the soles of your feet. The lead singer was an older member who Rogue had replaced in the first place, but had apparently come out of retirement. He called him self Mastermind, claiming his lyrics could make people think. They did, but mainly things like 'Shut the hell up.'  
  
Bad Genes finished tunig up, and Rogue played the openign chords to their first planned song. Ororo took the microphone,a dn they were off with a loud chord and well chosen first line. The applause was pretty good, the crowd was warming up.  
  
Both bands played the required three sets, plus Bad Gene's sacraficial lamb (the first song, since it would be a warm up for the crowd, no points are awarded). Inteh end it was close, but Weasle Feet lost; probably because Mastermind's newest creation was about an ex-boyfriend stalking his girl. No one wanted to hear about that sort of thing.   
  
The nex challneger was listed as Kung-foo Tree. Bad Genes was given a break while Kung-foo (It was a soloist) set up. Rogue and Remy were chatting at eh bar when Scott took the stage. Jean's shot was all over the bar floor. The rest of the band reacted similarly. Even Ororo knew enough to be outraged.  
  
Scott sat on a bar stool and pulled out an electric guitar. He started palying. Rogue almost ran on stage with a broken beer bottle. It was one of Bad Genes' songs. Jeanwas furious.   
  
"He took my tape! I wondered why I couldn't find it!"  
  
Rogue stormed out of the bar, almost seeing red. The others also went their own ways to cool off. It was few minutes before Remy decided to warn Rogue Scott's song was almost over.  
  
He walked outside to find. . .nothing. At least not right away. Rogue wasn't in front of hte building. So Remy walked around it. Still nothing. He went into the alley behind the bar and saw. . .someone. He could see well enough to know it wasn't Rogue. He pulled out a zippo and the perosn ran away.  
  
Curious, Remy walked further into the alley, stepping over the broken bits of needles. Apparently addicts used the alley, which probably explained why the person, it looked like a man, had bolted. Then he saw a dark something on the ground. It was wet, but in the dim light he couldn't see what it was. It didn't smell like gas, so he figured he was okay.  
  
The first thing he saw was a bloddy hand full of hair, followed by half of a Hard Rock Cafe shirt. Remy hoped to God it wasn't the one Rogue had been wearing earlier. he follwed the arm up to the rest of the body.  
  
Her throat had been cut open, which is why she hadn't screamed. He knew you could hear her scream for blocks. Her clothes were scattered around her, and a needle was stickign out of her arm. Apparetly, from what he could see, the person, probably the man he'd scared away, had tried to drug and rape Rogue, and maybe he'd succeeded, but Rogue had woken up too soon, so he'd cut her throat to keep her quiet.  
  
She was still moving a little, but he knew it wouldn't last long. He carefully gathered her into his arms, kissing her almost pristine blue bangs. He felt her try to move, but put his fingers non her lips, a meaningless gesture now, but her body relaxed, still trying to breath. The sick thing was that she was getitng a little air through the gash in her throat, makig her death slower.  
  
"Shh. Jes' calm down chere. Shh."  
  
He felt her body become harder to hold, heavier, but he knew she had just stopped helping him hold her up. A minute later she was dead. Remy was still holding her, unable to make a sound himself. Soon Kurt walked over, ticked off that they weren't in the bar, or at least in front, fully expecting them to be having sex. He didn't see anything unusual aboutthe scene in front of him at first, but when he saw that neither Remy or Rogue were moving he ran over, wonderig what the hell was wrong.  
  
"What are you two. . .oh my God!" Kurt ran back intot he bar and diveed for the phone. He called the police and soon they arrived.  
  
Kurt showed them tot he alley, after insisting that Irene stay in the bar withthe others. When they got to teh alley Remy was still there, but Rogue was on the ground, her arms flat next to her body, her legs straight out in front of her.  
  
The police automatically handcuffed Remy and put him in the car. He protested loudly that he hadn't killed her, that he loved her, that this was wrong beyond beleife.  
  
In the end nobody believed him. Nobody. Kurt and Irene were too emotional to take the stands for either side, and while Ororo and Jean pleaded for him, the landlord was sure he'd been beating the crap out of her for years (another mistake) and told the jury so. In the end the outcome was clear. Remy was spendng the rest of his life in the state prison, with a slim chance of parole.  
  
In a way he supposed it was better. If he were out in the world, he would have tracked down the man who caused all of this, and there would be plenty of solid evidence that Remy had been the one to beat him to death with a rock, including his confession.  
  
Wrap up:  
  
Scott was the next one to get some jail time, this time for domestic violence. He had been less than happy that Jean thought so highly of another man. Jean had a few big bruises, but had mainly stopped him from hitting her too hard. She moved to another city and made it semi-big playing the top ten hits with the house bands.  
  
Ororo and Kurt were the next ones to die. Kurt was taking Ororo to her apartment after one of Jean's bigger shows when a drunk driver smashed their car into a guardrail, which broke, sending them into a ravine.  
  
Irene was unable to take the stress of her two stepchildren's deaths and buried herself into her work, managing twelve bands at a time. She later died of exhaustion, but not before her husband ran away, never to be seen again. No one really knew what happened to him.  
  
Weasle Feet broke up a week after Remy was sentenced, due to creative differences. Mort's hygene and Mastermind's lyrics might have had a hand in the split as well.  
  
The bar was turned into a gay club. Ironically, they played the tape of Bad Gene's song every Tuesday and Thursday until the tape wore out. It had been left by Scott in the manger's stereo, and he'd decided he liked the sound. His boyfriend had agreed, and so, it got airtime.  
  
The rapist died from AIDS (not given to him by Rogue), but before he did, he wrote a book, which a church volunteer gave to Irene to read when she was inthe hospital for the last time. She had thrown it at the church volunteer, telling her to go to Hell.  
  
Mr. Logan ran his building in the same way for many more years, until his cigar smoking, heavy drinking, bacon and eggs every day for breakfast lifestyle did him in.  
  
Scott's bar stool was burned when a man dropped a cigarette on it. It was replaced with another, and nobody remembered the arse it had once held was partially responsible for ruining and ending so many lives. After all, it had just been a bar stool. 


End file.
